Smoke & Mirrors

Ultimatum

“Is that even possible?”

“This is madness!”

“—might as well have made her as good as a mortal.”

“You cannot do this. She is my child—

Hades could hardly hear the others over the sound of his own blood rushing against his eardrums, or the completely distinct feeling of the ground underneath him being swept away. He was tumbling, falling into an abyss that swallowed him whole. He couldn’t fight it.

Not that he was actively trying to.

Shock. That was what he must be feeling. The abyss was simply the magnified emptiness of his own mind. He couldn’t breathe, nor think clearly. No thought plagued him for once; the irony a sick, cruel joke by the Cosmos’ grand design, but not quite as close to the one that played out before him.

They wanted to lessen the love of his immortal soul. Wanted to take the powers that were rightfully given to her— No, not given. child. She’d been born with it and Gaia had warned them of Kath’s powers knowing how special she would be.

How vital.

To him. To the Council. To Olympus.

To the world.

And they wanted to take it all away.

The beast within him roared in outrage, raring to protect what it knew to be his. Behind him, by the circle of the hearth, Hestia’s quiet sobs lifted the fog and haze of his mind which rooted him to his spot with inaction. Sounds around him grew louder. The voices became more distinct, enabling him to pick one out and focus on it.

“Asking her to give up all her powers would be like saying that we trained her for nothing!” That growling male voice spat. “The prophecy had warned us that something is coming for us. Kath could be the one to tip the scales.”

“And would that be in our favor, God of the Sun?” a female drawled, her tone dripping with sweet venom. Hera. “We have seen how capable she is, yes, but her tendency towards a magical tantrum can leave even Zeus incapacitated long enough for her to overthrow us and take over all three domains!”

Hades blinked. Was Hera hearing herself? His gaze focused just in time to see Aphrodite. Swift as an adder, the goddess shot out of her seat and marched up to the Queen of the Gods.

And slapped her right across her face.

A pin could’ve dropped in their midst and they would’ve thought it was too loud.

“Have you lost your godsdamned mind?” the terrifying Aphrodite roared only inches from Hera’s stricken face. A red welt was starting to form across her cheek. “We would sooner see you sell this entire Council out for your own selfish interests rather than see my daughter be anywhere near something as ugly as your blackest desires.”

Those eyes raged and flickered through a cycle of colors in obvious ire against Hera’s glassy green ones. “Oh yes,” she whispered—hissed more like. “You forget that beauty— true beauty— comes from within. And I can see none of it when I look at you.”

The entire pavilion was at a standstill. Their collective gasps were the only disturbance to the silence. Aphrodite turned, her long locks giving Hera another slap as she strode away. A look to Hades' left saw Hermes choking on what seemed to be his own saliva. On his right, Hephaestus stared after his legal wife with fire burning in his eyes.

He looked away.

“That will be quite enough,” Athena said, not once raising her voice. Slate gray eyes settled on Kath and Hades but he refused to see the regret within. “The condition has been set. Frankly, even allowing you this is already causing alarm.”

“Should we be indebted, then?”

Hades turned to Kath who'd spoken. Everyone did, as if they'd forgotten she was there at all. It wasn't hard; she'd barely given any reaction.

Athena's features softened. Zeus grunted. “We are hardly being unfair,” he said. “If I didn't have a council to consult, you would have gotten an outright denial.”

“In any case, it's immaterial— they can't get married now,” Ares drawled, drawing the ire of Hades, Aphrodite, Apollo, and Hermes. “Apollo's right: she's our greatest weapon at the moment, whether we like it or not. To take away her powers while that prophecy hangs over our heads would be stupidity.”

“I would have to agree," said Artemis quietly.

Apollo whipped towards her, face aghast. Artemis tipped her chin up and ignored the betrayal her twin felt this was.

“Gaia’s last gift to Olympus was a child born from the earth with the ability to reflect every single power she’d ever come into contact with,” the Goddess of the Hunt said. “There is almost nothing in our arsenal to counter her powers, no one powerful enough to stand up against her. Gaia— someone who valued the balance within the Cosmos— gave us unchecked power. And then this prophecy comes.” She leaned back against her moonlit throne. “That sounds to me like the great Titanness knew something like this would happen and gave us our best shot at surviving. If opposing your marriage would spare us from the darkness to come,” she spoke to Hades and Kath directly now, “then I would unapologetically oppose.”

Hades’ hands tightened into fists. His tongue unstuck itself from the roof of his mouth and finally spoke.

“I will give up my powers.”

All sets of eyes blinked at Kath uncomprehendingly. The words in Hades’ mind dissipated like smoke brushed away by the wind. He took her surprisingly warm hands, voice breaking with anguish as he said, “Kath, no.”

Devastating, quicksilver storms shot clean through his soul. She reached up, tenderly cupping his cheek with a reverence that made his knees go weak. But when she spoke, it was to the Olympians.

“I am willing to give up all my imbued powers in exchange for blessing in my marriage to Hades.” Her hand fell from his cheek to her side, and whatever warmth that had been in her eyes when she looked up at Hades vanished when she faced the Council. “None of you owe me enough to speak of me less as a person and more as a weapon. I’ve earned the right to be selfish, for once, and shall leave you to whatever mess you think you’re in. ”

The reactions were not, as one would believe, instantaneous.

Hades had all of two breaths, his reflexes sharp and quick, to cast an impenetrable wall of glittering dark energy around them before Zeus struck.

Lightning clashed against the darkness, blinding Hades momentarily. He growled, blinking the bright spots from his eyes. The readjustment cost him. Like an eagle aiming for the kill, Zeus descended for the kill, resorting to hand-to-hand combat in a surprising show of strength. He recovered fast, planting his feet firmly underneath him while maneuvering the fight away from Kath and Hestia behind him. When his shadows no longer extended to protect the two goddesses, he struck.

He met each of his brother’s blows with deadly efficiency. He read and knew all his moves before he even made them, using most of the momentum against Zeus. He fought like a bull and Hades realized that this was not simply rage he was exhibiting. There was a kind of desperation to it. And resentment. Lots of it.

In the part of his mind that wasn’t required by his focus on battling his brother, he wondered just why Zeus felt this way but dismissed it rather quickly. He swept his leg out. Hades recognized the maneuver and avoided being pinned down to the ground and instead pushed him face-first on the pavilion floor.

“Get off me!” he growled, sweating and red in the face.

“Not until you stop acting like a child,” Hades said with no small amount of satisfaction at having bested him.

“This is treason!” he bellowed.

Ares, who’d been sitting on the edge of his seat and watching the fight with glimmering delight, shot up to his feet with his twin swords in both hands. Hermes and Apollo coiled to defend against him but Hera sharply gestured for the others to stand down, even going so far as restraining Aphrodite in her throne with pomegranate branches. The rough bark cut across her flawless skin, the scrapes deep enough to draw blood. Ichor dripped down her cheek and even Zeus stilled underneath Hades.

That was her gravest mistake yet.

Before anyone could move, Hera started coughing and clutching her throat out of nowhere. Ares paused, watching as the branches holding Aphrodite fell away, rotting before the broken bits of wood touched the ground. Demeter shifted away from her sister with her nose wrinkled in disgust, not realizing she was choking from the lack of air in her lungs and not about to vomit.

Athena snapped into motion, inspecting the queen’s airways when Apollo stayed rooted in his seat. She realized in no time that she would not be able to help. Soon, the rest of them were staring helplessly at the goddess whose dress reminded them a little too much of blood.

“Kathréftis, stop this madness!” Zeus bellowed, still struggling underneath Hades.

“Alright,” she murmured, a brow slightly inclined as she watched Hera finally get a lungful of air, the blue of her lips slowly fading just like that.

They all backed away, and Hades had to admire the show of control his Little Kitty exhibited— the show of power that was enough to make grown gods proceed with caution. Yet his heart broke when it finally dawned on him why she did what she did. He watched Kath’s impassive face, his heart plummeting.

Athena helped Hera back up her throne, the prone goddess doing well not to look Kath or Hades directly in the eye. Once she was sure that Hera could hold herself upright, she turned a hard gaze towards them.

“Despite what transpired here, the Council will grant you three days to think about your choice. Let no decision be made in haste, lest it lead to regret.” She eyed her father on the ground. “And let there be no war amongst our numbers.

Zeus growled and, finally, Hades pushed off his brother from the ground. He got to his feet, glowering but calm as he made his way to Kath’s side, while his brother angrily stomped back to his throne.

“You would kill me just to marry him?” Hera seethed, her hand still clutching her throat.

Hades rolled his eyes because apparently his sister hadn’t learned her lesson just yet. He tried to tug on Kath’s hand, wanting to get away from the pavilion, from the Council and their perverse, self-interested agendas, but she refused to move. Her mercuric eyes stared coldly at the queen and it was enough that even he had to fight a shiver barreling down his spine.

Then she smiled, as devoid of warmth as the frozen tundra.

“Oh, you mistake me,” she drawled lazily. “I would do far, far worse.”

Athena stepped in front of Hera, her face set with disappointment. “You have two days to think things through. The very fate of this world might just be in your hands. I know you, Kath, and I know leaving defenseless people to die when you can do something about it would kill something inside of you. So consider it.” Her slate gray eyes looked between her and Hades. “Both of you.”

Still holding her hand, he felt it spasm within his grasp. As if Athena's words had already pierced something within Kath’s soul. His blood boiled anew and he tried not to be hurt when she shook her hand free from his grip and she vanished in a fascinating display of dark smoke crackling with thunder and lightning. But he knew she wasn’t pissed at him, not even by a longshot.

He shook his head slowly, a humorless bubble of laughter bursting forth from him as he stared at Athena, his body already half-turned to leave and follow after Kath. She was already waiting for him back in the Underworld, he could feel.

“You always do know where to strike,” he told Athena, watching as the cracks formed in her mask. “To take advantage of her heart like that… I hope you know what a low, graceless, desperate thing you’ve done.”

He turned his back to them, burning with fury, and before he bridged back to his domain, looked over the entirety of Mount Olympus. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to tear the whole place down.

Now, maybe he’d found the best reason to go through with it.